The Unexpected Snape
by Imablack
Summary: Severus thought he knew what to expect of the spawn of James Potter...until he walked into the Great Hall looking like Severus Snape. Co-authored with hello-nurse2005(Luck on Potions and Snitches). Rated 'T', just in case.
1. Chapter 1

This story is a collaboration with hello-nurse2005 (Luck). This plot bunny was originally her baby but she invited me in on the fun.

_**The Unexpected Snape**_  
**By Luck and Imablack**

***1 September, 1991 -10:21pm***

Severus Snape tied his house robe around his waist as he stepped out of his private bathroom. He had hoped that the hot water running down his back would relieve the tension, but it had done no good. He was going to have to resort to stronger methods and he went straight for the fire whiskey.

Severus poured himself two good measures and slammed the carafe on the table with a hard _thunk_. He downed the liquid courage in a single, hard swallow. The heat that poured down his throat wasn't nearly as satisfying as he had hoped it would be. The normally dour man had considered another…many in fact. All he wanted to do was drown out the memory of that night's Welcoming Feast, but he could not. Severus had to be up early to teach classes the next day. Drinking himself into oblivion was something he could not indulge in.

Instead, Severus sat himself on the worn Chesterfield in front of the fire and did something he had not allowed of himself in ten years. He put his head in his hands and cried.

Ever since the end term in June, Severus had been fretting this day—the day Harry Potter was to begin Hogwarts. He had been preparing himself for it in fact…the day the product of the one girl Severus had ever loved and the bully who had tormented him throughout his adolescence walked through the doors of the Great Hall to begin his magical training.

Yes—Severus had prepared himself. He prepared himself to hate the spoiled, arrogant spawn of James Potter. Severus expected to see the emerald eyes of Lily Evans, his beloved, fixed on Potter's snide face. After all, when the brat was born, Dumbledore had lauded how the boy had Lily's striking eyes and Potter's raven hair.

Severus was prepared for his life to turn upside down. He was prepared to go chasing after the little miscreant every night if need be. He had already planned appropriate and inventive detentions and punishments he was certain he would have to dole out.

Yes—Severus was prepared for the arrival of Harry James Potter…_but not like this_. When he first set eyes on the dark-haired boy who was too small for his age, wearing glasses too large for his face, Severus knew immediately that things were not as he had been led to believe.

Severus Snape was the Potions Master at Europe's premier school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a former Death Eater who turned spy for the Light. He was accustomed to the unexpected. But nothing could have prepared him for the blow that he was given tonight. His life was about to be turned upside down, alright…in ways he had never expected. Not when he had taken the Dark Mark…not when he found out that his precious Lily had been targeted for extermination…neither could compare to the cold fear that sat in his belly like solid block of lead at that moment.

For that very night, Severus Snape had realized that he was a father. And he was the father of none other than Harry Potter…The Boy Who Lived.

Severus considered pouring another finger of fire whiskey, after all, when he heard the Floo flare to life, heralding the appearance of a not entirely unexpected visitor.

Severus never spared a glance to the hearth; there was only one person who could gain entry into his rooms without his express permission. He said nothing as Albus Dumbledore stepped into his line of sight. The dotty headmaster was still dressed in the ridiculous spangled robes he had worn to the Sorting.

Without bothering to ask Severus' leave, Albus settled himself comfortably into the chair across from his potions master. For a long while Severus refused meet his mentor's expectant gaze. Without realizing when or why he had done so, Severus unexpectedly found himself looking into those damnable, twinkling blue eyes. As usual, they shone with warmth and kindly understanding, and as usual, Severus found himself miffed because of it.

Severus' gut turned in on itself, as if he were a small child caught misbehaving. It annoyed him to no end that the aging wizard could still have such an effect on him. There had been only three people Severus had ever really loved and two of them had passed beyond the Veil long ago. The third was Albus Dumbledore.

Over time, the august headmaster had somehow become the paternal figure Severus had never known in his own father, Tobias Snape. Severus was only a mere child when he first entered the grand, magical edifice of that was Hogwarts. His mother's stories of Albus Dumbledore's legendary power and wisdom were almost too much for a young boy to comprehend, but once he laid eyes on the headmaster, even the young boy understood. Almost immediately, Severus admired him, even as he coveted and feared the famous wizard's awesome power.

Later, as a young man, after Severus realized his gross errors in judgement when he trusted another great and powerful wizard whose words were as sweet as honey, yet dripped venom all the same. Before it was too late to turn back, Severus shifted his efforts towards defending the Light. To some, his willingness to enter the Dark Lord's lair in order to glean valuable information on behalf of the headmaster's Order of the Phoenix, was an act of bravery. To Severus it was an act of selfishness. He knew he had only to save Lily. Severus felt grateful and completely undeserving of Albus' acceptance, understanding and the swift intervention that had kept him out of Azkaban.

Severus felt that a life sentence in the hellish prison was the least he was due for his trespasses. Initially, he assumed that the headmaster came to his aid because Dumbledore had further use for him. In time, however, Severus reluctantly came to realize Dumbledore would never have protected him, much less trusted and confided in him, if the headmaster disliked the younger wizard.

When Severus came to realize that the old man loved him as the son he had never had, flabbergasted couldn't begin to describe how Severus had felt. After all, who could love such an ugly, bitter, emotionally flawed person such as himself?

As time passed, and Severus had come to know the headmaster as just a man rather than a myth, he began suspect it was due to the fact the Albus might have seen a bit of himself in Severus. Dumbledore had known the temptation of power that had yielded disastrous results, just as Severus had. This epiphany further ignited Severus' fierce loyalty and the love of a son for his father. He was well aware Dumbledore manipulated and used him at times, but it was obvious the elder wizard genuinely loved and worried over him. Loathe though he was to admit it, Albus spoiled Severus much as one might a petulant son, allowing his Potions Master more leeway with how he ran his classes than the headmaster might his other professors, and enabling Severus during his many infamous, cantankerous mood swings.

This had been obvious in the days and months after Lily's death. The Potion Master was quite sure that the headmaster's influence and guidance had been the only thing that had kept him from meeting his end by his own hand after Lily died. During one of the bleakest times in Severus' life, Dumbledore had saved him once again, this time from suffocating in a thick mire of self-pity and bitter remorse. Therefore, Severus did everything Dumbledore wanted and more, not only because he had promised anything, but also because in reality he wanted to please the older man.

Finally Severus had to speak, if only to end the thunderous silence that had collected in the room. "Did you, by chance, happen to notice anything odd about our new celebrity?"

Severus squirmed under Albus' scrutiny. "Other than the fact that Harry Potter only superficially resembles James and bears an uncannily striking likeness to Hogwarts' current Potions Master; I've noticed nothing out of the ordinary about the boy at all."

"The boy's appearance could be mere coincidence, however, I must know for certain." Then Severus quietly said more to himself than Albus, "If it is true then this changes everything."

"I understand, Severus," Dumbledore assured. "So it is possible then? Harry could be your son?"

Severus nodded his affirmation. "It is a possibility. The timing is right," he said reflectively. "Harry was likely conceived at the end of October."

"I wasn't even aware you had any contact with Lily after the two of you left Hogwarts."

"Before that keen mind of yours comes to the wrong conclusion, old man, it was entirely consensual— by _both_ parties," Severus snapped.

"Severus, it seems you are the one making assumptions," Albus said patiently. "Nothing could be further from my mind. I am well aware that you would never hurt Lily so."

"I won't go into details. The interlude was far too brief and once again, she chose Potter. Scarcely a fortnight had passed after I last saw her, when their marriage announcement appeared in the _Daily Prophet__,_" Severus said bitterly

"She was unfaithful to Potter." Severus' announcement lacked the expected note of triumph. "However, in the end, it was _him_…it was always _him_."

"She chose to bear _your_ son," Dumbledore murmured. "It was not a decision she was coerced into. Lily was a brilliant witch. No doubt she was aware of her child's paternity."

"Lily would never have aborted the baby, even if it was mine," Severus said sullenly.

"Severus…," Albus began, his voice slightly pained.

"Did you suspect this... _this_ turn of events?" Severus interrupted, not even attempting to hide his suspicion.

"Severus, I pride myself on the fact that my intuition far exceeds that of the ordinary witch or wizard, but even I must confess that I find this turn of events unexpected. I hadn't the least notion that Harry was other than who Lily claimed him to be—the son of James Potter," Dumbledore replied tilting his head in thought. "I am quite aware of your feelings for Lily, of how deeply you still love her. Do you think so little of me to believe I would purposefully keep you from the child you helped her create…_your_ child?"

"You placed him with Lily's sister, correct?"

Dumbledore leaned back into the chair again, steepling his fingers together. "At the time, I felt the Blood Wards that Lily's sacrifice offered him was Harry's best protection."

"And now?" Severus asked contemptibly, his dark eyes flashing as they made contact with the headmaster's. "_Tuney_ was a jealous and vindictive child and I seriously doubt time has changed her."

Dumbledore sighed. "Normally I would not recommend turning a child's life upside down, especially at this juncture. However, these recent events must be taken into consideration. The owls had difficulty delivering Mr Potter's letter. Hagrid took on the task of hand delivering it for me. Perhaps you should speak with him about his encounter with Harry and his guardians?"

For the briefest of moments, Severus was caught off guard and he inadvertently allowed his normally stoic countenance to slip. "If they have…if they have _hurt_ him..." He trailed, off his jaw clenched tightly at the thought of that horse-faced shrew laying one finger on the boy's head.

Severus would not wait. He would get to the bottom of this tonight. Severus dashed to his room to quickly change into trousers and a jumper then grabbed his robes off the back of his chair where he had carelessly thrown them when he returned from the Welcoming Feast, and slipped them on.

"I would like to discuss this_ visit _to the Dursleys. Where might I find Hagrid?" Severus asked, as he smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles. Merlin knows he paid enough for the magical wrinkle-free fabric.

"I expect that he is still in the boat house, securing the punts."

Without saying another word, Severus turned and swept from the room, his dark robes gliding across the stone floor in his wake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I would really like to thank Luck for inviting me into this story. We have a ton of fun ideas and I think you all are really going to enjoy this. :D

I would also like to thank her for the incredible fan videos she created for _Along Came a Family_ and _Severus Snape and the Potion Master's Daughter_ (the link for PMD will be available in a day or two on my profile page).

Please remember to let us know what you think. No worries, I am still working on ACaF and PMD. I hope to get some good writing time on both this weekend.

TTFN  
~Missyann


	2. Chapter 2

Severus stalked through the cold empty corridors of Hogwarts, the torches magically casting an eerie dance of light and shadow on the stone walls. The massive solid oak doors of the main entrance creaked open as he approached. As he strode across the vast courtyard he heard the echoing, metallic boom as the doors slammed shut behind him.

The trek to the boathouse was not a short one for the Potions Master. Severus pulled his robes tighter around him in an effort to ward off the damp chill. The cool night air so early in September heralded the approach of an early Scottish winter—or he could simply have been imagining it. Severus could have simply been cold from fear of what he could discover in a few short moments.

As Severus approached the steep, winding stairs, the small structure of the glass boathouse came to view in the distance. He looked across the spectacular vista and was struck with a sense of _Déjá vu_. He remembered the night long ago when he and Lily crossed the Black Lake together and first laid eyes on the majestic castle. The lights of the ancient castle sparkled like diamonds on a black velvet drapery. The eleven-year-old Severus was struck breathless and Lily was equally awestruck.

Severus had heard the tales of the magical castle from his mother his entire life, but nothing had prepared him for the experience. Even at that young age, Severus felt the powerful magic emanating from the castle. It breathed magic like a living thing. The air seemed to vibrate with it as the tiny punts were magically drawn into the castle. It struck Severus like a bell, the moment he stepped off the small boat and into the castle. To this day, he still believed that the castle was sentient, acknowledging each magical child as they passed through her barriers. This was why the annual ritual of traversing the lake was always honoured, even in inclement weather. Fortunately, the benign giant squid that dwelled in the Black Lake was always nearby to return any inquisitive children to their boat that may have been unfortunate enough to fall over the side.

The sky had been clear for Harry's first trip across the lake, just as it had been the night Severus first arrived at Hogwarts. He remembered as he sat in that small punt, Lily had wound her fingers into his, seeking strength from him. It was one of Severus' happiest memories. In fact, it was the memory he used to conjure his Patronus.

That happy moment had been broken, however, when the moron, Sirius Black, pompously and erroneously proclaimed that the Black Lake had been named after his family. Ironic, considering how vehemently Black tried to deny his heritage as the years passed.

In reality, the Black Lake had been simply named because of its colour, a very dark, inky hue. Beneath the nearly constant layer of mist, the water seemed as still as obsidian glass.

Severus stopped half way down the stairs and gazed out across the expanse. He could not help but wonder about Harry's experience crossing the lake. Had Harry been spellbound by the magic, awestruck by the castles dangerous beauty—or had Petunia, who as a child had both coveted and loathed anything magical, manipulated the little boy into believing magic was evil and abnormal? The look of wonder on

Harry's face as he came through the Great Hall and saw the enchanted ceiling and floating candles, indicated to Severus that Tuney had not been successful in poisoning the boy's mind against magic. Severus had a deep, sinking feeling in his gut that Petunia Dursley tried very hard to quell Harry's magic.

When Severus finally reached the boathouse, he paused just outside the door. He could see the outline of Hagrid's hulking mass through the leaded glass. There was a flash of wand light, the loud clatter of something heavy crashing to the floor and then Hagrid's disgruntled muttering. Severus smirked. He would be willing to bet an entire month's salary that the grounds keeper was using his ridiculous pink flowered umbrella that obviously contained the bits of his broken wand, to magic the boats into their proper place.

The Potions Master had to admit the fact that Hagrid could perform any sort of magic at all with a broken wand and only three years of formal training was a testament to the half-giant's innate magical ability. Had his fate chosen a different course, Hagrid might have been a formidable wizard.

Severus pushed the boathouse door open slowly, allowing the slow creek to announce his presence. Hagrid had been using magic to secure the oars to the punts to the wall. Severus' intrusion had startled the half-giant and when Hagrid suddenly turned to see who had caught him, one of the little boats fell half-way off the wall and knocked Hagrid on the head. The boat's stern splintered into a hundred pieces, but Hagrid did no more than rub his head, as if he had only been hit by an annoying acorn falling from a tree.

"Pr'fessor Snape! I did'na see ya standin' there," Hagrid said nervously.

Severus supressed a smirk and waved his wand. The wooden shards of the punt gathered themselves back together and the boat settled into its proper hook on the wall.

"The headmaster told me I might find you here," Severus explained, tucking his ebony coloured wand into his equally dark hued robes.

"I was wonderin' if ya might come see me," Hagrid replied soberly as he gently placed his umbrella on a work bench. His great shoulders heaved with a sigh, as if grateful Severus had not called him out on his transgression. "Jus' was'na expectin' ya so soon."

Severus shoved his hands inside his cloak pockets to hide his nervous twitching. "Why would you be expecting me at all?"

Hagrid took a rope from off the wall and bent far over to pull the last punt into position on the dock. At least one boat had to remain on the water in case of emergency. "Well…when Dumbledore asked me ta deliver young Harry's Hogwarts letter, I was expectin' him ta look like James Potter. I was little takin' aback when I realised he didn't…but the tyke's face was still somehow familiar. Then it hit me when he walked into the Great Hall tonight."

"He looked like me," Severus answered dispassionately. He did not want Hagrid to see how much he had been affected.

Hagrid finished tying off the boat and stood to his full height. He placed his hands in the small of his back and stretched back. "Actually, he reminded me a bit of yer mum. But I made the connection, if ya know what I mean," he admitted. He gave a slight groan as he relieved the kinks in his back.

"Hagrid, I need you not to say a word to anyone about this. As it is, I'm not certain if it's true." It worried him that the half-giant already suspected so much. Hagrid was infamous for having a loose tongue when we was off his trolley.

"Can'na say it's anyone else's business, now isn'it?"

"No it isn't," Severus agreed with a sigh. "Hagrid, why did you have to hand deliver Mr Potter's letter?"

"For some reason, he was'n getting' them. Emptied out the Owlery, they did. Me an' Pr'fessor McGonagall were the only ones other than Dumbledore who knew where 'Arry was put into hidin', see. McGonagall was busy notifyin' the Muggle-borns so Dumbledore sent me."

Severus found himself somewhat reassured that Hagrid had managed to keep Harry's hiding place secret all of these years. Maybe he wouldn't have to Obliviate the gentle-giant.

"What happened when you delivered the letter?"

"Well, if truth be told, Pr'fessor, I don' think I handled the situation all so good," Hagrid admitted sheepishly.

Severus listened carefully as Hagrid told him of the night he barged into the hut the Dursleys had been camping in. Not taking into account his abnormal strength on the friable Muggle hut, the half-giant did a sight more than knock on the door—he knocked the door down. The fact that his intrusion happened at midnight when the entire family had been sleeping did not lend itself to harmonious introductions from the Dursleys.

Hagrid said he had been met by Vernon Dursley wielding a Muggle weapon. From the description he gave, Severus thought it might be a shotgun. This stuck him as odd, being that the Dursleys lived in the suburbs and from what little Severus recalled of Lily's description of Petunia's husband, he very much doubted Vernon Dursley was a sportsman. Legally acquiring such a weapon is a long and difficult process. Severus should know. His own father had applied for a firearms licence and been denied one on several occasions—thank Merlin. He wondered if Harry's uncle acquired the weapon via the illegal route and what would possess the man to take such a huge risk. Severus had to admit to himself, if he were a Muggle and any man barged into his home, much less a man the size of a small lorry, he would have met the threat with the most deadly weapon he could find too.

According to Hagrid, the Dursley's were on holiday when he managed to find them after the tracking spells had led him all across the countryside. The location made no sense to Severus. Why would anyone chose to holiday in a dilapidated shack on a rock in the middle of the Channel? From Hagrid's description, there weren't even proper beds for the boys to sleep in the cold and draughty hut.

Hagrid mentioned that Harry dressed in clothed that were oversized and unclean. Severus had seen Muggle youth dressed in such a manner on the streets of Cokeworth and in the markets of Manchester. He was certain it was the current generation's rebellion against authority. Well, if the boy began showing any signs of insolence or disrespect here at Hogwarts, Severus would see that they were jacked in quickly. Then Hagrid said something that greatly concerned Severus. In the heat of her diatribe, Petunia had called Lily a filthy slag. It was enough to make Severus want to Apparate to Surrey and hex the horse-faced shrew's tongue out right then.

"Then she called poor Harry a…," Hagrid hesitated. What little of his cheeks Severus could discern through the matted beard on Hagrid's face was red from righteous anger. "Well…I can'na repeat what she done said, and I should'n be held accountable fer what I did. Usin' that kinda language aroun' children," he added defensively.

"You have nothing to fear from me," Severus assured Hagrid coolly. "What did Hor...erm…Petunia, say to make you hex her?" Severus just managed to catch himself. He had nearly referred to Petunia as Horse-face. Proof that the habits of childhood were wont to die hard.

Hagrid seemed unsure as his beetle-like eyes darted about, looking to see if there was anyone else who might overhear. "She…she…." Hagrid swallowed hard before he rushed out his next words. "She called the little tyke the bastard of a freak."

Those words stung Severus to the quick. How many times had Petunia called him and Lily freaks? But to call Harry a bastard of a freak…did Petunia suspect something?

"Did you tell the headmaster of this?" Severus inquired. How much did Dumbledore know?

Hagrid scratched the back of his head and said sheepishly, "I was goin' ta, but Harry asked me ta let it pass. He didn't seem put-out by it. Said the whole family was scared of magic—tha' they tend to overreact sometimes, is all."

If Hagrid wasn't three times his size, Severus felt he might throttle him. The fact that Harry was _blasé _about Petunia's insults and her husband's tendency for violence disturbed Severus. Most considered Hagrid's naiveté as part of his charm, but for adult of the gamekeeper's age, such ingenuousness could prove to be a dangerous thing. Severus could not imagine the boy being so unmoved by the Dursley's behaviour if it wasn't a common occurrence. He wouldn't have a chance to speak to Harry's aunt and uncle until the weekend—not that he expected the full truth from Petunia and her husband. But what if the truth was unthinkable? How would Severus find out?

Severus' didn't think he could get anything else useful from Hagrid so he excused himself to leave. He stopped at the door when Hagrid called out to him.

"Pr'fessor. I'm not going to ask why. I know you ta be a good soul and you would never hurt Lily, thick as thieves you were here at Hogwarts… but do you really think that Harry could be yours?"

Severus took a moment to school his features before he turned again to the gamekeeper, "What do you think?" he asked dispassionately.

"I think you would'n be here unless you did."

Severus stalked away from the boathouse. Even if Hagrid miraculously managed to keep his suspicions to himself, the credulous giant was able to put two and two together and realise that Lily may not have been the saint that history and Albus Dumbledore had painted her to be. If Hagrid could make the connection between Severus and Harry, then it would only be a matter of time before others would.

Doubtless, others would not believe so readily that the circumstances behind Harry's conception were conceptual. Severus had a dark past and many would immediately expect the unthinkable of him rather than think that Lily could be unfaithful to James Potter, if only for a brief time. Severus' analytical mind kept screaming at him that Harry's resemblance to him was strictly coincidental. It had been a brief affair, abruptly cut short for reasons that remained unknown to him, but Lily and James had been together for…. Try though he might, Severus could not deny it. The timing was right and looking at the boy was like peering into a mirror of the past.

Severus could survive the scrutiny, the uncomfortable questions, and the unwarranted accusations— but could Harry? Perhaps it would be better for Harry if Severus said nothing and simply denied everything once the hard questions began to be asked. But how could he do it? Even if Harry never knew the truth, Severus always would.

* * *

Two young boys sat excitedly on the edges of their beds. One was tall for his age with red hair and freckles, and the other, fair, with emerald eyes behind round glasses. Hidden underneath the fringe of his stringy, raven-black hair was a peculiar scare shaped like a lightning bolt.

Harry Potter had just met his new friend, Ron Weasley, that very morning on the train to Hogwarts. Ron looked just like the rest of his family—all red hair and freckles. Harry had never seen a family the size of the Weasleys. So far, Harry had met Ron's mum, his little sister, and three of his older brothers, and that wasn't even the lot of them. Ron seemed to be a little put out being in the middle of such a large family. One older brother had been Head Boy and another, captain of the school Quidditch team. Now Percy, the oldest at Hogwarts now, was just named a Prefect. He was nice enough to Harry, but he seemed a bit bossy to Ron and their other brothers, the twins, Fred and George. Despite the fact that Ron seemed to be lost in such a large family, Harry couldn't help but feel envious that it was obvious that his new friend belonged somewhere.

Harry other dorm mates, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan, and Dean Thomas, were already asleep. Harry had no idea how late it was, but he was too excited to sleep and Ron had proven himself a good friend by staying up with him.

"It's the last cauldron cake. You want?" Ron asked as he longingly eyed the flaky, sweet pastry that lay on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Nah," Harry replied, tossing the tasty treat to his new friend as he rubbed his belly. "I'm podged."

Harry grinned as Ron caught the pasty, eagerly tore it open and shoved half of it into his mouth. It felt so nice to have a friend to share with.

And it was true— Harry couldn't remember ever being so full in his life. Aunt Petunia had never let him eat until he had his fill. Harry could count on one hand how many times he was allowed a second helping, much less pudding or sweeties. The only time he was ever got such treats was when he went to his babysitter's house, Mrs Figg. Mrs Figg always let Harry indulge in whatever he wanted, but the house always smelled like cats and cabbages and that always threw off Harry's appetite.

Hogwarts was truly incredible, with its talking portraits, magical floating candles, and bewitched ceiling. It was like nothing Harry could have imagined in his wildest dreams. At the feast, Harry had been awestruck; he had never seen so much food in his entire life. It seemed Hogwarts served a bit of everything, even peppermint humbugs, which struck Harry as a bit odd.

As Harry listened to Ron's satisfied smackings, he couldn't help but think about that dark-haired teacher. Whenever Harry looked his way he would get the strangest pain in his scar. Harry had never had pain in his scar before.

Percy told him that the teacher's name was Professor Snape. In fact, Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Professor Snape was looking at _him_. It was kinda weird. Harry would get this strange feeling that he was being watched, but when he looked up at the Head table Professor Snape was looking elsewhere or talking to the teacher next to him—the one with the purple turban.

"Ron?" Harry began.

"Mmph?" Ron responded with a full mouth, causing more than a few crumbs to fly from his lips.

"That teacher, Professor Snape, I think he was watching us. Why do you suppose that was?"

Ron shrugged and swallowed loudly. "Fred and George say he is a real git and hates Gryffindors—always taking points for no reason, assigning awful detentions and favouring the Slytherins." Ron snorted. "He was probably was wondering which one of us he would torture first. I sure do hope Potions are not the first class on our timetable tomorrow." Ron yawned loudly and crawled beneath his duvet. "I don't know about you but I'm knackered. G'night,Harry."

"I am too. Night, Ron," Harry replied softly. As he climbed into his incredibly soft bed, Harry could have sworn that he had caught Professor Snape staring at him just once. But contrary to what Ron had said, Harry saw no malice in the professor's eyes. If anything, Harry thought he looked curious…or maybe something Harry couldn't quite place.

Harry was sure of one thing, though— it was not hate or disgust. Thanks to his relatives, Harry was all-too familiar with those looks.

Harry decided not to worry about it anymore. For the first time in his memory, he didn't have to worry about anything. His belly was full, his bed was warm, he had a friend, and he was safe inside Hogwarts. Harry rolled over on his side, pulled his soft covers up to his chin, and closed his eyes. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that never remembered being so comfortable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luck's A/N: I hope you guys like this collab and that you will want to take a peek at the vid I conjured up for it. Link :

/SFheplTvA90

Please leave comments and likes. Just remember I'm a newbie at Vid making. Missy and I are very excited about this story and think you all will enjoy it!

We have tons of cool ideas for our boys adventures!

Missy's A/N: Thank you…all of you, for the enthusiastic reception to our little story. We really are having fun coming up with ideas for this and we hope it will prove just as fun for you fine folks. Luck's working on Chapter Three and I'm working on the next chapter of _Severus Snape and the Potion Master's Daughter_. So with any luck, between us you'll get lots of updates.

Let us know what you think and TTFN,

~Missyann


	3. Chapter 3

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts and Harry was quite sure they all wanted to make it difficult for the first years to make it to class on time. Everything seemed to move, the people and animals in all the portraits, the coats of armour, and even the walls themselves.

Hindering them also was the fact that it usually seemed like most of the older students felt it was beneath them to notice first years who were trying to manoeuvre through the dense crowds in unfamiliar corridors. The fact that Harry was the smallest boy in his year only compounded his problems. He and Ron had been nearly run over five times that morning by much larger students. It all made the simple business of arriving to class on time seem quite daunting first thing in the morning. By now, Harry and Ron should have been in Transfiguration, but instead they were racing up stairways to nowhere. The stairs they were presently riding had led to nothing but a blank, stone wall.

"Unbelievable! We're late now for sure!" Ron said as they raced back down the staircase in a desperate attempt to find their way to class. It was true—they were late. There were no more students lingering the corridors.

From her stern appearance at the Sorting, Harry was pretty sure Professor McGonagall wasn't a teacher to cross. Plus, she was his Head of House. He really didn't want to be late for her class.

"Come on, I think it might be this way, Ron!" Harry said with much more confidence than he felt.

As he blindly turned down the nearest corridor, Harry sped up into a jog. Unfortunately, as he turned back to see if Ron was still behind him, suddenly Harry wondered how he had missed the stone wall he had just ran into. Falling backward, arms pin-wheeling in the air, Harry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable impact with the stone floor.

But his collision with the floor never occurred. The sensation of his backwards free-fall ceased when Harry felt a very large hand grab his shoulder and fixed him upright. Harry's eyes flew open wide and his panic was renewed when he found himself staring into the black depths of Professor Snape's eyes. He hadn't run into a wall—he blindly smacked straight into a giant bat.

Harry looked up at the dark, mysterious professor. There was something about his quiet and menacing manner that Harry found even scarier than any of Uncle Vernon's enraged ranting. Fred and George had explained all about how evil Professor Snape was, and how he liked to set Gryffindor firsties detentions with Mr Filtch so they could be hung by chains along the dungeon walls for all of this Slytherins to take the mickey out of.

Harry gasped and winced slightly waiting for the expected punishment from the feared teacher, but like his fall, it too never came. To Harry's astonishment, Professor Snape's reaction was hardly a mild rebuke.

"Mr Potter," Professor Snape said calmly, as he released Harry's shoulders. "If I am not mistaken, your first class this morning is Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, is it not? Why aren't you there?"

Harry wondered if he looked as gormless as he felt. How did Professor Snape know his schedule? Perhaps Fred and George were right—Professor Snape really did read minds.

"I...I...yes, sir," Harry stammered.

Harry had never heard the Professor speak before. To his surprise, it was kind of a nice voice. Sort of deep and soft, like the voice he would hear in his dreams where his Dad was still alive and would tell him reassuring bedtime stories to keep the demons away—like in Dudley's story time videos that Harry would listen to through his cupboard door when he was very little. It was quite different from his Uncle and Aunt who seemed to always find some excuse to bellow and screech at Harry.

However, because his usual dealings with adults rarely ended in his favour, Harry remained wary and took a tentative step back from Professor Snape's dark and imposing figure. He looked behind his shoulder in hopes of finding any witnesses should the Potions Master turn him into a newt and sighed with relief when he noticed that Ron had finally caught up with him. His ginger-haired friend paled, causing his freckles to stand out in stark relief… so much for Gryffindor bravery.

"Ah, Mr Weasley...another wayward Gryffindor, I see."

Harry put his hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle as Ron struggled for something to say that wouldn't get him in anymore trouble.

"Follow me. I'll never hear the end of it if I allow two of Professor McGonagall's precious lions fall victim to Peeves. The nuisance managed to get his slimly little hands on a Fanged Frisbee. I suspect a couple of _Weasley's_ are behind it," Professor Snape said darkly. The professor gave Ron a sinister glare and Harry thought his poor friend might just pass out.

Harry and Ron were both waiting for some form of torturous punishment that should have belonged to Fred and George to befall them, but instead, Professor Snape turned away so quickly, Harry and Ron just stood there and dumbly blinked as the professor's black robes billowed in his wake.

"Well?" Professor Snape snapped without ever looking back.

Harry and Ron ran to catch up with the dark figure. They turned the corner where at least a dozen suites of armour stood at attention on either side of them. They hadn't taken two steps when Professor Snape halted suddenly, causing Harry to nearly run into him again. His eye's narrowed as if sensing something that Harry and Ron could not. The imposing professor had somehow pulled his wand so quickly from his robes, Harry hadn't even seen him move. He lowered his free hand and gestured for Harry and Ron to stay close behind.

Then, the oddest thing happened. Far down the corridor, the face mask of one of the suits of armour slowly opened and a strange lime-green disk emerged from it. It hovered menacingly for what seemed like forever before it suddenly flew at lightning-fast speed straight for them. Harry and Ron both gasped, because without warning, the flying disk started snarling and gnashing sharp teeth.

Professor Snape easily stepped to one side as the disk flew past, keeping Harry and Ron safely behind his back. As the disk whizzed by in a green blur, Professor Snape raised his wand and in a flash, it exploded into a sparkling, green cloud and fizzled away.

"Peeves, show yourself this instant," Professor Snape said forcefully.

An unseen someone blew a loud raspberry and the same suit of armour the Frisbee appeared from and clattered to the floor in a heap.

"Very well, I'll have a word with the Bloody Baron."

Suddenly there was a sharp pop, like a cork coming out of a bottle of fizzy drink, and a very strange looking, small man appeared floating in the air just in front the professor.

"Ooooh!" he said with a wicked cackle as he looked over Professor Snape's shoulder. The strange man skirted past the professor and began circling so low over Harry and Ron's heads, they had to duck. "What's this? A little, itty, bitty Snivelly, I see. "

"I'm not snivelly!" Harry protested loudly as he boldly shook his fist at the phantasm.

"Neither am I!" Ron said just as fiercely.

"Enough!" Snape hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Harry wasn't sure if Professor Snape was angry at him or the ghost-man. "Peeves, if you don't leave now, I'll have the Bloody Baron dogging your every move until Judgment Day."

At the threat, Peeves stopped his incessant circling and gave Professor Snape a two-fingered salute before he zoomed away in the opposite direction.

"Sir, was that a ghost?" Harry asked as he and Ron ran to catch up with Snape, who started striding down the corridor again without warning.

"No, Peeves is a poltergeist," Professor Snape replied, stowing his wand back into the folds of his cloak. "A poltergeist set on creating chaos and mayhem." He looked down at Harry and Ron as they continued to struggle keeping up with his long strides. "If you ever find yourself alone in a face to face confrontation with Peeves, simply threaten him with the Bloody Baron. He'll leave you alone quickly enough."

Harry wasn't exactly sure what the difference between a ghost and a poltergeist was, but since it really wasn't going to keep him up at nights, he decided to let it go.

"But the Bloody Baron is the Slytherin ghost, sir," Ron said timidly. "He won't help us. We're Gryffindors."

"The Baron will answer to whomever I tell him to," Professor Snape said ambiguously. Harry and Ron looked at each other with astonishment. What on earth did _that_ mean? Harry was beginning to wonder if this really was Professor Snape. Maybe he got his professors mixed up, because although this teacher seemed stern, he didn't seem like the evil bat that every other Gryffindor had described.

"Sir…what do you teach?" Harry asked, feeling pretty confident he wouldn't end up in Professor Snape's cauldron now.

"Potions," the professor said curtly. "Fortunately for you and Mr Weasley, my Seventh-year NEWTS don't begin for another hour. How you two managed to be halfway across the castle from your destination is beyond me."

So this really was Professor Snape. Now Harry was really confused and knew that Ron must be doubly so. From his very limited experience with the dour professor Harry was certain he wouldn't end up in detention so he decided to actually answer. "We're sorry, sir. Ron and I overslept. By the time we were ready everyone but the older students were gone and they looked like they didn't want to be bothered."

"Yeah, so we ended up asking one of the portraits," Ron added.

Professor Snape's eyes narrowed. A funny little line formed between them. "Which portrait?"

"I'm not rightly sure, sir," Harry admitted as he looked at Ron who only shrugged back at him. "He said his name was Sir Cardigan, but he was moving around from painting to painting. So we don't know where he came from."

Professor Snape stopped suddenly and the oddest, confused look came over his face. "Sir Cardig…? Do you mean Sir _Cadogan_?"

Harry nodded. "That's him."

Harry wasn't sure if Professor Snape was going to laugh or spit, but in the end he just said, "Word to the wise, Mr Potter—Mr Weasley, Sir Cadogan's sanity is questionable at best. Next time, ask an older student. I'm sure they won't bite, even if they are Gryffindors."

Professor Snape resumed their quest to find Professor McGonagall's classroom, Harry heard Snape mumble something he was certain wasn't meant for his young ears. "Bloody oil stain's a menace."

Harry and his friend continued to follow the teacher down three floors, zigging and zagging so many different way through the halls, Harry was quite positive he would never learn his way around the enormous castle.

Finally, they arrived outside the door of what Harry presumed to be the Transfiguration classroom, Professor Snape unceremoniously jerked the door open and ushered them into the room. Just as they stepped across the threshold, a grey tabby cat that had been sitting atop a desk on the front dais gracefully jumped and turned into Professor McGonagall mid-leap.

"Wow!" Harry and Ron said in unison, thoroughly impressed.

Professor Snape merely smirked and arched an eyebrow at the display. "I see you're still performing the same party tricks you did twenty years ago," Snape commented dryly. "I believe you are missing two of your lions. I found these two lost and had it not been for my timely arrival, they would have been utterly at the mercy of Peeves. I think you should better prepare your first years, Professor McGonagall."

At that point, Harry didn't know who was the scarier of the two teachers, Snape or McGonagall. For some reason Professor Snape seemed to be angry with Harry's Head of House and she seemed equally as cross that Professor Snape had criticized her in front of the entire class. Neither professor seemed like one to be trifled with.

Professor McGonagall frowned with her lips pursed tightly as his she were trying to hold something back. "Thank you, Professor Snape," she said tersely. "I'll see to Potter and Weasley from here." Her eyes moved over them, seeming to settle on Harry longer than Ron and Harry couldn't help but squirm under her scrutiny.

"I trust that you two can find your seats without much difficulty."

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," Harry and Ron said in unison once again. They scuttled quickly to the two remaining empty seats. As the potions teacher turned to exit the classroom, Harry heard Professor McGonagall speak again.

"Sever..._Professor Snape,_ if you don't mind, would you join me in my office later for tea?" Harry was sure by her tone, it wasn't just a request.

Professor Snape merely nodded his agreement as he swept out of the room. The interaction caused a low murmur of disbelief and speculation to ripple across the room.

* * *

Fortune had smiled on Severus that day. By happy coincidence his regular office hours were first thing in the morning that day. Rather than go over the same lesson plans he had taught year after year, he decided to take a stroll. If that stroll happened to take him past the Transfiguration corridor, then so be it.

He purposely sat next to Minerva that morning at breakfast as the Deputy Headmistress always reviewed the timetables of her First-years one final time before she distributed them. A silent _Confundus _to distract her attention right about the time she came across the mid-Ps was all he needed to steal a glance at Harry's schedule. Severus supposed he could have simply have asked Albus for a copy, but where was the fun in that? It served her right anyway. If she continued to cut Severus furtive little glances, he would have had to hex out her eyes. That would not have boded well for his continued employment.

Severus watched carefully as small groups of children found their way to Minerva's classroom, circling wide berths around him as if he were carrying Dragon Pox. Not that it mattered to Severus. He didn't care much for children. Oh…he didn't hate them, but he didn't rightly like them either. He was pondering the paradox of being a teacher with no love of children when he noticed that the crowds were thinning and there had still been no sign of Harry Potter. It was then that he began to worry.

He finally enlisted the help of a couple of portraits that informed him that Harry and his friend were on the opposite end of the castle and making their way to the Hall of Armour, the favourite haunt of Peeves the Poltergeist. Severus took a shortcut _via_ a secret staircase and arrived just in time to stumble across Harry—almost quite literally—when the boy took a header into Severus' _celiac plexus_. Harry and the current-youngest Weasley kit had been running late as they were set astray by that bloody Sir Cadogan. That waste of piss and pigment couldn't find is way around his own painting, much less find his way around the castle. It was a shame that the secret stairway was actually a secret, otherwise he could have avoided leading the children down Peeves' favourite haunt.

Severus sighed as he continued his wool-gathering and his trek to Minerva's office. He knew perfectly well what this meeting was about. She too, had obviously made the connection between Severus and Harry and the old-cat couldn't leave well-enough alone. Perhaps he should have hexed her eyes out at breakfast?

The Transfiguration classroom was empty, just as all of the classrooms were. With the exception of extracurricular activities and Astronomy, lessons were over for the day and most students were on their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

He hated being called to her office like this. Severus knew it wasn't a request to share tea, but rather an order to explain himself. Rather like that time in Fourth-year when Sirius Black mysteriously sprouted an asses tail in McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson. Severus tried to explain that he was simply practicing his wand movement when the spell accidentally erupted. It wasn't his fault that Black was in the line of fire. Minerva didn't buy it for a second. _Bugger!_

Severus crossed the classroom floor, feeling as though he were marching to a funeral dirge. When he reached the door, he stood up straight and gathered his composure. He wasn't Professor McGonagall's student anymore. He was an adult and Minerva's colleague. He convinced himself that he had nothing to fear as he knocked confidently on the door.

"Come in, Severus."

Severus blew out a hard breath before entered. He knew that voice. This was not going to be a pleasant tea.

"Minerva," Severus said evenly as he sat himself in the empty chair across from her desk. "You wished to see me?"

Minerva played mother and poured him a cup of tea as a plate of sandwiches popped on to the desk. Her face was set tighter than the bun on her head. Severus took the offered tea and a Marmite and cheese sandwich. He really didn't feel like eating. His stomach was flopping about as if he had swallowed a live fish. But he needed to have something handy to cram down his throat if the conversation went south. He could get away with more insults than many of his fellow professors, but there was a limit to everything.

"Yes, Severus, there is something—or rather, _someone _I want to discuss with you," Minerva said as she settled back into her chair with a cup of tea in hand.

Severus casually blew on his tea before taking a sip. "Would you care to enlighten me or would you rather play guessing games?"

Minerva placed her cup on the table and it clattered lightly. "You've always appreciated candour, so I'll be blunt—Did you know?"

Severus took a bite of his sandwich and swallowed it down hard. He had to take another sip of tea to keep from choking on it.

"Did I know what, Minerva? That Peeves was lying in ambush? That Albus wears mismatched socks? That the Boy Who Lived bears a striking resemblance to Hogwarts' current Potions Master? Do tell—which one of the mysteries do you need an answer to?"

Minerva rubbed her forehead as if nursing a growing headache. "Severus, will you please be serious. I must admit, I was up most of the night fretting over this. I was convinced that I must be losing my senses."

"Don't worry," Severus said then tossed his head back as he finished off his tea. "We aren't carting you off to a care home, yet."

Minerva reached over the table and Severus handed her his cup. "You hardly sound reassuring," she said as she refilled his cup. She opened up a drawer and pulled out a flask. She showed it to Severus and he nodded. Minerva added a splash of the brown liquor to his cup and then twice as much to hers.

"But to answer your question—no—I did not know about Harry until last night."

Minerva seemed to sigh with relief. "Severus, I nearly fell over when little Harry came up to be sorted," she admitted. Minerva sipped her tea, and Severus noticed how she braced herself with the liquid courage. "I saw that same face walk into the Great Hall twenty years ago, and I am not referring to James Potter. Now either Albus has created a concoction to change the boy's appearance for some deep game that is beyond me or you are the boy's father."

From the sound of her voice, Severus was sure that Minerva considered her latter suggestion an impossibility and she only meant to tease him.

Severus again slowly drank his tea, taking comfort from the slow burn that trickled down his throat. He never bothered to answer Minerva verbally, but only gave her a meaningful look. It didn't take long for Minerva to decipher it.

"Severus! What did you do to poor Lily?" Minerva gasped, clutching at her chest.

Severus levelled a dagger-like stare in the Transfiguration teacher's direction, "We had sex, as that is generally how these things are done."

"But...how can that be? Lily would have never...Did that that monster make you…?"

"Of course not!" Severus bellowed as he rose from his chair. "I assure you it was quite consensual. Do you honestly think that I could…that I would…_rape Lily_?" He could literally taste is bile in the last words.

Without knowing how, Severus found himself staring out Minerva's window. There were a group of Gryffindors gathering in the court yard followed by some curious Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Young Mr Thomas must be a Muggle-born. He had placed a Muggle football on the ground and seemed to be instructing his friends on the particulars of the game. Severus smiled inside when he noticed Harry amongst them.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Minerva said. She was standing just behind his shoulder. "I know you and Lily were thick as thieves for years. I assumed you had a falling out over your…associations. I know she loved James deeply, so I won't pretend that I understand."

"She did love…_him…_ deeply. But his missions for the Order took him away for weeks at a time with no word. And I'm sorry to destroy your saccharine notions of the sainted Potters, but they were human…and Lily was often lonely."

"You had a love affair," Minerva stated stoically, obviously hurt by Lily's betrayal of Potter.

Severus nodded; glad that he wasn't facing Minerva so she could see his pain. "I'll spare you the details, but it was only the one time…a moment of weakness for the both of us that Lily instantly regretted. She and Potter were not yet married, but they were engaged."

"How are you going to tell him?"

Funny that Minerva knew Severus so well. He wasn't one-hundred percent certain that Harry was his, but he knew he would find out. And what if his suspicions were true? He didn't know if he should tell Harry, but somehow he knew he would.

As he looked out the window Harry had managed to score a goal against the opposing team that seemed to be captained by none other than Mr Thomas. Harry basked in the praise and cheers of his friends and Severus felt a sense of pride he had never experienced before. He had no legal or scientific proof that Harry was his yet, but he found himself desperately hoping it was true. Harry would be his proof, that if only for a short time, Lily's heart had belonged to Severus and he could live happily on that for the rest of his life.

"Severus?"

Minerva had startled him from his musings. "I'm sorry. What did you say, Minerva?"

"I asked, how are you going to tell him."

Severus breathed deeply and tore himself away from the window. "I'm not sure yet. First, I need to find a way to confirm that he is mine."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

`Hi everyone. We're back! On behalf of myself and Luck, thank you all for all of your enthusiasm and lovely reviews. This story has been a fun and exciting collaboration for the both of us.

I also promise I am still working on both ACaF and PMD. I've worked on them both today, but chapters do get out faster when one has a partner. The new job has also cut into writing time. But rest assured, nothing has been abandoned and updates are coming soon.

TTFN, and let us know what you think.

Luv ya,  
Missyann


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Friday arrived, Harry was quite relieved to discover he wasn't too far behind his classmates. Many came from Muggle homes, just like him, and hadn't known anything about magic either. Even the kids from magical homes, like Ron, didn't have much of a head start because there was just so much stuff to learn. He had another cause to celebrate. By the end of the week, Harry and Ron had finally found their way to the Great Hall without getting lost.

"What do we have first today?" Harry asked Ron as he dumped sugar and cream into his porridge. Harry had never been allowed such luxuries at the Dursleys' and was now taking advantage of his new-found freedom.

"Bugger! Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron said miserably, looking at his timetable. "Snape is Slytherin's Head of House. Fred and George say he favours them. I guess we'll see if it's true."

"Too bad McGonagall doesn't show us favour," Harry said, scooping up a large bite of his porridge and shoving it into his mouth, enjoying the sweet creamy taste. Professor McGonagall was their Head of House, but she had still set a load of homework for them. Harry doubted Professor Snape would take sympathy.

"I guess we shouldn't be too worried," Ron said as he tucked into his breakfast. "Fred and George were probably just winding us up. The professor didn't seem as bad as they said he was the other day."

Harry nearly dumped his porridge out of his spoon when the Great Hall suddenly came alive with the flapping wings and hoots and shrieks of owls delivering the mail. Hedwig had not brought Harry any letters or packages, of course. This was to be expected, his relatives were certainly not going to be sending him anything. He had a momentary twinge of disappointment, but swallowed it back with a gulp of pumpkin juice.

But still, Hedwig would fly in each morning to visit Harry and get bit of his bacon and a scratch on her head before she flew gracefully back to the Owlery. Despite the lack of a letter, it made Harry smile and was a welcome start to his day.

But much to his surprise this morning was different. Hedwig actually dropped a letter on Harry's plate nearly launching his bacon across the table. Harry eagerly ripped it open to see who would have sent him a letter. It was from Hagrid, inviting Harry to tea in his hut that afternoon when his lessons were over. Harry happily scribbled out a short note on the back of the letter saying he would like that and sent it off with Hedwig— after giving her an extra piece of his crispy bacon, of course.

After breakfast, Harry and Ron trudged reluctantly down into the damp, chilly dungeons. Harry wondered why Potions lessons were held in the dungeon. He thought maybe they were so awful it was like being held captive in prison.

When they arrived in the dungeon classroom, Harry found them to be even darker and creepier than the dungeon corridors. He supposed it was the slimy and unrecognisable creatures preserved in jars of different shapes and sizes lined along shelves on the walls. He shivered, because he could have sworn that an eyeball floating around with others in some murky, yellow liquid had blinked at him. Maybe Fred and George were right. Professor Snape did cut up his bad students into potions ingredients after all.

Harry and Ron barely arrived on time and they quickly found their seats next to a bushy-haired Gryffindor girl. Harry remembered her from the train ride and the Sorting. He was pretty sure her name was Hermione. It was such an unforgettable name once it was stuck in his head. She was furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment, but stopped just long enough to give them a critical look, as if they were really late.

Harry wondered how she could possibly be taking notes already. The lecture hadn't even started yet. But once he thought about it, Harry decided perhaps having his supplies out early wasn't such a bad idea, so he pulled his own quill, ink, and parchment from his bag. Taking notes wouldn't hurt, and even though he would never admit it to Ron, he was kind of excited about Potions. Science was his favourite subject in Primary. He managed to glance over the textbook during the summer and was amazed by all the different types of potions and what could be done with them.

The entire class jumped in their seats when the door suddenly flew open, noisily crashing against the stone wall. Professor Snape strode determinedly into the classroom, his black robes billowing behind him as if they would take to flight. The effect was very menacing.

Professor Snape reached the dais, turned quickly, and faced the class. The dark, cool manner in which he spoke set another round of chills down Harry's spine. "There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is Potion making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition—," Professor Snape paused and for a moment Harry thought the teacher's dark eyes flicked in his direction. Harry grabbed up his quill and quickly began taking note of every word his teacher spoke.

"I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. Then again—perhaps most of you have come to Hogwarts with abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not take notes. Why is Mr Potter the only one writing this down?"

There was a quick flurry of activity as the students reached for their parchment and quills. Harry turned to Hermione because he knew that she had been taking notes too. She looked a bit put-out and Harry didn't blame her. He had gotten the idea from her and yet Professor Snape hadn't recognised her effort.

Someone must have done something on the Slytherin half of the room because Professor Snape's attention shifted over there from Harry. Malfoy was sniggering as if he found something funny. Apparently, Professor Snape didn't find it very funny because he was giving Draco Malfoy the most menacing glare Harry had ever seen. Harry sincerely hoped the professor would never look at him like that. Draco either didn't notice that Professor Snape was approaching him as he whispered to his friends sitting on either side of him, or he just wasn't very concerned. Harry thought either way was a colossally stupid mistake.

Harry remembered Draco and didn't like him at all. Harry first met the blonde boy the day he went shopping in Diagon Alley with Hagrid. He made Harry nervous because he kept questioning Harry about his parents and Harry didn't know how to answer. They met again on the Hogwarts Express. The way he openly insulted Ron's family, Harry knew that Malfoy was a pompous prig that he would never get along with. Malfoy was the reason Harry wasn't in Slytherin himself. Malfoy had already been sorted into Slytherin and Harry did not want to follow him, so he talked the Sorting Hat out of sending him there. Harry spent enough of his life living amongst bullies. Now he was away from the Dursleys, he didn't want to be condemned at his new school to the same fate.

"Mr Malfoy," the professor said darkly, "what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air; nearly smacking the side of Harry's head on the way up, just as Malfoy's attention finally snapped to the professor.

Malfoy looked rather stunned, as if he wasn't sure if it was some kind of trick. But Harry didn't think that Professor Snape was the type to pull tricks. Harry was glad Professor Snape hadn't asked him that question, because he certainly didn't know the answer. He suddenly wished he had read more of his potion's text if that was the kind of questions they would be asked.

Harry had to crane his head to look around Ron so he could see what was happening at the other table. Every eye in the room seemed to be on Malfoy, except for Hermione's. She was still waving her hand frantically trying to get Professor Snape's attention.

It looked like Malfoy didn't know the answer because he was obviously at a loss. For a moment he seemed to struggle for an answer until he finally stammered, "I…I don't know, sir."

"Hmm...Then let's try another, shall we? Tell me, Mr Malfoy," Snape said curtly, "where would I look if I wanted to find a Bezoar?"

Malfoy just stared unbelievingly up at the tall, dark figure. He was clearly at a loss for words. "I…I…"

"Pity—clearly your father has overpaid your private tutor."

Professor Snape leaned in closer to Malfoy. Malfoy leaned back, his face paler than a ghost's. His two gormless looking friends, Crabbe and Goyle, scooted away in their chairs in an effort to put some distance between themselves and Snape's victim. The professor spoke so softly, Harry could barely make out what he had said. "Next time, Mr Malfoy, you will think well enough to keep from making rude gestures at your fellow students in class and you won't be called out. Am I understood?"

Malfoy nodded dumbly. Harry honestly thought the arrogant git was going to cry.

Professor Snape turned and marched back up to the dais. No one dared to laugh or giggle behind his back, though Harry could tell that some students had to make an effort at it.

"One point will be given to Gryffindor, for Mr Potter's excellent note taking. Ms Granger, put your arm down, you silly girl. You're going to poke Mr Potter's eye out, waving it about like that."

Hermione put her hand down in a huff, but at least no one had laughed at her.

There were, however, poorly suppressed gasps of surprise rippling through the Gryffindor side of the room, and the Slytherins seemed to be in a state of mild shock. Harry understood why. Word had it that Professor Snape never awarded points to Gryffindor.

After giving a hurried explanation the monkshood and wolfsbane were the same plant and that one could find a Bezoar in the stomach of a goat—a concept that Harry found gross, yet morbidly fascinating—Professor Snape started talking about simple potions. Much to Harry's delight, they would actually get the chance to brew one on the very first day.

When it was time for the practical part of the lesson, with a flick of Professor Snape's wand, the directions on how to brew a Boil Cure magically appeared on the blackboard.

Once they began brewing, the professor glided silently up and down the aisles, his black cloak floating behind him like a giant shadow. As he glanced into each cauldron and snidely gave students suggestions on how to fix their deplorable potions.

"Don't put your porcupine quills in yet," Harry managed to whisper to Ron when the professor's attention was focused on Dean Thomas' cauldron. "You have to take it off the fire first."

Professor Snape glanced towards Harry and for a terrible moment, Harry thought the professor might have heard him give directions to Ron, but Professor Snape just moved on to Seamus Finnegan's cauldron and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, mate," Ron whispered back as he removed his cauldron from the heat, not daring to say more.

When it was their turn to be scrutinised, Harry and Ron gave auditable sighs of relief and smiled at each other when the professor declared that their potions were barely passable.

The professor was about to say something to Harry when Hermione screamed out, "No, Neville! It's too soon!"

Neville Longbottom was at the table directly in front of Hermione Granger. A loud hissing noise and an acid green smoke were coming from his cauldron.

"Move back, Mr Longbottom! _Evanesco!"_ Professor Snape bellowed as he pointed is wand and made his way around the table over to Neville. But it was too late.

Harry guessed that Professor Snape was trying to get rid of Neville's ruined potion, and had mostly succeeded, but in less than a second Neville's cauldron had melted into a molten mass of pewter as the potion erupted like an active volcano and everyone in close vicinity, including Harry, took shelter under their tables.

Harry, Ron and Hermione waited under their table for the green goo to rain down on them, but it never came. Cautiously, they emerged from their haven. Professor Snape had managed to rid most of the potion, but poor Neville had been too close. His face sprouted angry red boils.

"Idiot boy! Can't you read?" Professor Snape practically roared. "You! Ms Granger! Take him to the hospital wing," he snapped.

He whirled around and glared at Harry. Harry winced, waiting for some sort of rebuke or accusation. He was close enough to see what Neville had been doing. Perhaps he was going to be blamed, like when Aunt Petunia would blame him for ruining one of Dudley's new toys, when it really had been his cousin's fault all along. However, Professor Snape said nothing but seemed to scrutinize Harry from head to toe, before once again sweeping down the aisle checking student's cauldrons.

There wasn't much time left in the lesson when Hermione rushed Neville off to the hospital wing. There were muffled giggles on the Slytherin side of the room that were quickly silenced with one, dark, drawn-out word from Professor Snape. "Quiet."

What little time left in the lesson was uneventful and Harry and Ron sighed in relief as they left. They had survived their first potion's lesson.

"I should have known they were winding me up," Ron said as the trudged the stairs out of the dungeons. "Snape isn't exactly what I would call nice. In fact he was practically beastly to poor Neville. But he's not nearly the ogre the twins made him out to be. He even awarded you a point and Fred says he never gives Gryffindors House points."

Harry grinned, it was the first point he had earned for his house.

Ron changed the topic suddenly when he asked, "Can I come and meet Hagrid with you? Charlie really likes him. He was always talking about him. Apparently Hagrid is as mad about dragons as Charlie is."

"That'd be great," Harry said, "because I have no idea what we would talk about."

* * *

It was getting late and Harry and Ron rushed to get back to the castle before sunset. Having tea at Hagrid's had been interesting to say the least.

Hagrid lived in a small hut on the edge of the Dark Forest full of massive Hagrid-sized furniture and an equally massive Hagrid-sized, slobbering boarhound named Fang. The tea was okay, but Harry and Ron had to slip Hagrid's rock cakes under the table to Fang because they didn't think to bring a hammer and chisel. Harry thought they had to be made from real rocks.

Ron and Hagrid happily discussed dragons for a half-hour. Hagrid regaled the same story to Ron that he had told Harry earlier that summer; how he had wanted to own a dragon his whole life.

When Hagrid had asked how their day was Ron jumped in and said that Harry made a point for Gryffindor.

"Like Potions then, Harry?" Hagrid had asked.

"It wasn't bad," Harry admitted. "Ron and I managed to manage to pass our first practical."

"Ya musta done more than tha to get points from Profess'r Snape. He don't dole House points out like sweets, ya know."

Harry shrugged. "It was only one point. Nothing spectacular."

"Don't sell yerself short, Harry. I imagine you'll be a fair hand at Potions, jus like yer mum an dad."

Then Hagrid got a funny look on his face, as if he shouldn't had said something. When Harry asked him to tell him more about his parents, Hagrid went on and on, telling him how brilliant and popular Harry's mum, Lily, had been. He must not have known much about Harry's dad, because the only bit of extra information Harry managed to wheedle out of Hagrid was that Harry's father had been brilliant with potions as well as a fine Quidditch player.

The rest of their time at Hagrid's Ron had excitingly explained the finer points of Quidditch, and Harry had to admit the game sounded brilliant. He just didn't think he'd be a good enough flyer once he was old enough to try out for the House team.

But maybe if he inherited his parent's potions skills, maybe Harry inherited his dad's flying ability too. Harry wasn't sure how these things worked, especially in the Wizarding world.

"Finally," Harry panted as he and Ron made it to the castle doors. "I didn't think we'd make it."

"Come on then, Harry," Ron said. "If we hurry we can just catch supper before it's over. I'm starving."

Ron was right; they just had enough time to tuck into a sandwich and some crisps washed down with pumpkin juice before heading back to the common room.

"_Caput Draconis_," Harry said to a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress.

The fat lady bade them to enter as the portrait swung open to reveal the hidden doorway to the Gryffindor common room.

Inside the common room, students were spread out in little groups, some doing homework, some playing games and some just engaged in conversation. The chatter in the room switched to eerie silence when Harry and Ron stepped into the room. Harry looked quizzically to Ron who simply shrugged gormlessly.

From the silence, there came spattered clapping, in the far corner of the room, Fred, George, and their friend, Lee Jordan, where standing and cheering for Harry.

"Bravo, bravo!" The three cheered, soon followed by others in the room.

"Three cheers for our Gryffindor hero," Fred cried out. At least Harry thought it was Fred. Ron told him that Fred was the one that usually spoke first.

George followed with, "The only Gryffindor in Hogwarts history to win House points from the dungeon bat!"

Harry could feel his face flush with embarrassment as Ron cuffed him jovially on the shoulder. "It was only one point, nothing spectacular. Hermione has already won more points in Transfiguration and Charms," Harry said.

"Don't sell yourself short, Harry, "said the twin he thought was Fred.

"Honestly—old Snape has never given points to Gryffindors before," George reiterated.

Harry was rendered speechless when Lee Jordan asked, "Yeah—you wouldn't happen to be his kid or something, would you?"

"What a rotten thing to suggest," Ron said hotly.

Another, older student backed up Ron. "The kid's right, Lee. Sure, he might look a little like Snape, but there's no need to pick on him like that. Even if you are just kidding, that's how nasty rumours get started."

"I didn't mean to take the micky out of him," Lee said defensively. "It's true. He does look like Snape."

Ron turned and looked at Harry's face. Harry could feel all sorts of eyes on him at that moment. Ron's eyes furrowed as he studied Harry's features. "I suppose he does look a little like him…" Ron said musingly.

"I can't look like Snape," Harry said. "My aunt says that I look like my dad."

"That's easily explained." Percy's haughty voice interrupted the discussion. Apparently he had been listening in on the conversation from his vantage point at a study table in the corner. "Most Pureblood families are related. It's more likely that the Snapes are an obscure branch of the Potter family. Professor Snape is probably a distant cousin of Harry's."

"Really, Percy? Do you think Professor Snape might be my cousin?" Harry didn't mean to sound as eager as he was, but the thought of having a long-lost wizarding relative excited him. Anyone would be a better relative than the Dursleys—even Snape.

"It's a distinct possibility," Percy said, sounding even more pompous than he did the first time he spoke.

"That would explain why…"  
"…he gave you the point," the twins said.

"If he's related to Professor Snape and Professor Snape knows it, why didn't he say anything to Harry?" Harry hadn't noticed Hermione sitting alone in a wingback chair, listening in on the conversation with the rest of the common room.

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it's because Harry was sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin."

"He's right." This time it was a dark girl who Harry guessed was about Fred and George's age who spoke up. "A lot of families take House rivalries very seriously. The Slytherins might not like it if their Head of House was related to a Gryffindor."

"Well, they didn't seem to like it much when he awarded me a House point right after he called out Malfoy," Harry said.

They all agreed that Professor Snape's behaviour that day was a mystery, even more so than his resemblance to Harry. Harry knew deep down that somehow the two were related, and he was determined to find out how.

* * *

"I am such an idiot!" Severus berated himself as he paced to and fro in front of the headmaster's desk. "I can't believe I awarded him points or that I admonished one of my own Snakes in front of the entire class!"

"Don't belittle yourself, Severus. You're one of the most brilliant wizards I know," Albus said patronizingly while never taking is nose out of his copy of _Transfiguration Today_. "Harry was setting a good example to the rest of the class whilst young Mr Malfoy shot your son a two-fingered salute. If anything, you let Mr Malfoy off easy. Now would you please sit down before you wear a hole in the carpet? "

Severus plopped himself ungracefully into the uncomfortable Queen Anne's chair in front of the headmaster's elaborate desk. A tea tray popped into existence on top of the desk and Albus put his journal down and began to pour out.

"You're not the only professor who will award the boy House points," Albus said as he put Severus' customary four sugars into the cup. Albus Dumbledore was probably the only living person aware that Severus had a sweet tooth, despite the fact that Severus loathed sherbet lemons. "You are worrying over nothing, my dear boy. The other teachers report that the boy is modest, likeable, and reasonably talented. Personally I find him a bright, engaging child. I think he's going to have a successful career here at Hogwarts."

Severus reached for the offered tea. "Of course he is intelligent—and engaging. He is Lily's child, after all.

"There you go again, Severus," Albus said as he poured out his own tea. "I'm sure your genes may have contributed somewhat to the boy's intelligence."

"I'm still not certain that he is mine," Severus said softly before blowing on his tea. "I'm not certain that I even want to know if he is."

Albus offered Severus a plate of biscuits. Severus chose two shortbread with jam before the headmaster took a chocolate biscuit for himself.

"Now you are being silly," Albus said. "Of course you want to find out if he is yours. It'll eat you up inside until you do."

Severus hated to admit it, but Albus was right. Severus had to know the truth. "There's a potion that can determine maternity sometimes used by orphans trying to find their birth mothers, but it isn't as reliable in discerning paternity."

"There are a couple of charms that could be useful, but it will require something from Harry and yourself—hair, blood, or skin."

"Well, I'm not about to go about pulling the boy's hair or poking him with needles," Severus said.

"No, no, nothing so invasive, my boy. But I do think we can 'kill two birds with one stone,' as the Muggles like to say."

"What do you mean?" Severus asked.

"I'm as curious as you are to find out about Harry's home life. I have a few hours available next Saturday. What do you say that you and I visit Harry's relatives next weekend? I'm certain we can find a hair or two on his pillowcase."

Severus was certain it was easier to go into the Harry's dorm and snatch a hair from the boy's pillow that way, but Harry's pillow couldn't answer Severus' questions the way Petunia could.

Severus' eyes narrowed as he steadied his thoughts. He said darkly, "I think it's been too long since I've seen dear, old, Tuney."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again, folks, sorry for the delay in updating. Luck is totally innocent on this transgression and the blame goes entirely to me. ~Missyann

We're sure most of you already know that there are a couple of lines that come straight out of canon—Snape's opening speech from _Philosopher's Stone_ and Dumbledore's comment about Harry from _Deathly Hallows. _We simply changed to context.

Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews and feedback. We are really excited about this story and your encouragement gives us the drive to continue. We hope y'all are having as much fun with this story as we are.

~Missyann and Luck


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